And Ember.
My back is pressed against the shelf, and his chest is nearly brushing mine.
So close, yet so far away.
Outside, the roaring wind grows impossibly loud.
Inside, all I can hear is the pounding of my heart and our heavy breaths.
“Are you okay?” Ember asks.
I can barely hear him over the sound of the tornado trying to kill us.
“Yup. I’m great,” I lie.
Another thunderclap shakes the building, followed quickly by the sound of wood slamming against wood from every direction. My mind is spiraling. I’m not ready to die. I just started my dream career. I have my first boyfriend. Things were finally starting to look up.
So, obviously, I need to be taken down a notch by a tornado.
Ember shifts slightly, bracing one hand against the shelf beside my head as if he could keep the closet from collapsing by himself. I’m not sure when it happened, but at some point, I grabbed a handful of his shirt.
He doesn’t comment on it, so I don’t let go.
“You know,” he says thoughtfully, “if this tornado hits a different funeral home in the area, it’ll reallyblow the competition away.”
I can’t see him, but I stare blankly in his direction. I can’t believe he just made such a dumb joke in this hell of a situation. Does he not care that we are about to die?
“No.”
“What? That was an excellent pun.”
“Stop.”
Another loud bang echoes from somewhere upstairs, and I flinch hard, tugging Ember closer on instinct. His big, warm hand slides to my waist in a comforting gesture.
“Try not to think about it.”
“Yeah. Okay. Totally gonna do that. I’ll just not think about the massive freight train tornado barreling its way toward us, wiping out everything in its path. No biggie.”
He leans closer so I can hear him over the howling wind outside.
“If we lose the roof,” he says casually, “we can advertise an open-air concept. Very modern.”
I choke on a hysterical laugh.
“You are not rebranding my funeral home during a tornado.”
“Adaptability is important in business. No? Okay then. New strategy.”
The wind picks up even more, and tears prick my eyes. My breathing picks up speed as I begin to hyperventilate. I don’t think I’ve ever been this scared. Another boom shakes the house, and I press myself into his body, shaking from fear. His arms wrap around me, protective and strong. His scent grounds me immediately.
Cedar. Smoke. Warmth.
Even in the dark, even with the air filled with tension from the storm, and me shaking in his arms, he’s still calm and steady.
“Focus on me, Habibi,” he says, his hands moving to cup my face. “You know, if this gets worse, we could say the business is reallypicking up.”
“Ember.”
